


Unity

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Academy Era, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: Falling love is easy. Being in love isn't.





	Unity

_Dear Gracia_  
  
No. No, that's not it, that's not how the letter should start, not when it's about something this important. Maes sighs and crumples the paper, throws it over his shoulder on top of the small pile that has already accumulated there. _Dear Gracia_ is far too plain and almost too impersonal in this case.  
  
He's already tried _love of my life_ and _honeycakes_ , and usually both are right and appropriate and _good_ because Gracia is the love of his life. But this time ...  
  
Maes pushes his lower lip forward in a small pout and angrily stares at the notepad lying on his lap. If this continues, he'll have to apply for a new one - or just snag one, nobody would notice. After all, he is not the only one who constantly writes to his family or partner or friend, he is just one of many homesick young lads. All of them gush over their significant others and relatives.  
  
Well ... almost all of them.  
  
Because there's one very particular idiot who does not, and that idiot is Maes's problem. Or rather, this idiot has a problem. With Maes. One that can't be solved that simply.  
  
Maybe he should just tell Gracia about it. About this problem. About all the reasons why it can't be solved this easily. About Roy, who -  
  
The door opens. Maes blinks. And then he rolls his eyes. "Speaking of the devil," he mumbles with a grin on his lips as Roy steps into the dorm room, raising his eyebrows at Maes' comment. Maes waves it off and pats on the narrow bed next to him - one of four in the room.  
  
Actually, it was planned that they'd all have several roommates, comrades, with whom they should make friends before they go to war, so that they'd have a reason to protect each other, keep each other safe. Bonds for life and so on. Hardly anyone would throw himself in front of a bullet for an asshole. But somehow Maes is fortunate enough to have his roommates either leave the academy or be assigned somewhere else, so it's really just him here, him and the pile of letters under his bed, with only – every once in a while - Roy joining him when his own roommates get on his nerves. Or when he needs someone to talk to. Or when he's just looking for Maes's company.  
  
And there is the problem again.  
  
Because Maes is five hundred percent certain that Roy has secret feelings for Maes that go beyond mere friendship. Roy Mustang is most likely gay (and a complete idiot, but that's no secret). A gay man. Homosexual. Not straight. With the hots for his best friend. However, while that certainly sounds like it could be a problem, it's … not the one he's thinking about.  
  
Rather, it's confusing. Very much so. Because he has no clue if Roy is just desperately in love with Maes - which would be understandable - or if it is something else, something much simpler, something entirely physical. What if Roy wants no emotion, but everything else? A kiss here and there, a quick handjob in the shower, maybe a fuck if they both feel like no one's looking, if neither of them has a difficult or physically demanding mission the next day.  
  
It would be fine with Maes. Both would be, in a way. He could deal with both. But not knowing what the hell is going on ... is a problem.  
  
One. But not _the_ problem.  
  
_The_ problem is that Maes has wasted so much time worrying about what exactly Roy might want him to do - long nights spent lying awake and looking up at the ceiling- that now he can't be sure what he wants to do to Roy. With Roy.  
  
He has imagined kissing him. Just putting a hand on his neck and smiling at him. It would be different than with Gracia, very different. At first, Roy would be confused, might think it's a joke. He'd keep his eyes open and then squint, the way he always does when he gets angry. His hair is shorter than Gracia's, a little stubbly at the back of his neck, tickling Maes' palm. He would feel Roy's breath on his skin as he'd lean down to him. There wouldn't be as much leaning involved as with his girlfriend, Roy is almost as tall as he is, but there'd still be something so familiar, something he is so used to, movements that resemble a routine. Maes would have to lower his head just a little for his lips to meet Roy's ...  
  
Maes spends many nights thinking about it. And as many days watching Roy. His face. His lips. The way the corners of his mouth twitch when he feels particularly smug. The way his lips part and expose dazzling white teeth, the way he sometimes bites his lower lip when he's thinking, focusing on a plan or a weapon he's cleaning. The way he licks his lips with his unfairly pink tongue when he's nervous.  
  
Maes would never admit it, but he'd spent a lot of nights thinking about Roy's mouth.  
  
And then he curses himself - because what if he's wrong and Roy does not even care about men? Or if he does, but not about Maes?  
  
And above all, what would his girlfriend say if she about Maes gradually becoming an absolute idiot falling for his best friend?  
  
Yes. the thing with Gracia is a problem. One he has been hoping to solve somehow, but then the devil himself has deemed it necessary to take on the form of an idiot – his idiot – and come into his dorm.  
  
To Maes' surprise - and very slight disappointment - Roy sits down next to him, but also not next to him at the same time. Not on his bed, but on the one next to it. He tilts his head to the side and glances from the notepad in Maes' hand to the pile of individual, crumpled sheets, and then to Maes' face. And raises an eyebrow. "What's that about?"  
  
"Oh, I'm ..." Is he blushing under Roy's gaze? He hopes he isn't! It's not embarrassing to write a letter to his girlfriend, okay? Not even if the subject matter is perhaps a little bit delicate ... "I'm just writing a letter."  
  
"Really? I would not have guessed." Roy swings his legs onto the mattress - legs for miles, Maes thinks, huffing at his own thoughts - and wiggles his feet like a little boy who has heard something exciting and now needs to share his knowledge. "Who are you writing to?"  
  
"Gracia."  
  
Roy rolls his eyes and lets himself fall backwards onto the thin mattress, crossing his arms behind his head. "Yeah, sure, as if I'm gonna believe that." Slowly he turns his face to Maes, his lips parting in a big, shit-eating grin that means no good. "If it was her, you would not have trouble with the letter."  
  
"Well, maybe it's something complicated ..."  
  
" _Sure_ it is." Roy grants him with a laugh and a shake of his head. " _Oh Gracia, baby, I love you so much_ ," he says, his voice high and squeaky. Maes feels the urge to kick him. Roy is lucky that Maes has been raised too well. " _Oh, my little flower, kiss, kiss, love you more than spinach quiche. Always yours, your Maesy-waesy._ "  
  
"That sounds nothing like me." Nothing at all. Absolutely not. Maes feels his face grow hot, but only out of anger and annoyance. Not because he is caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
"You've never heard yourself talking to her over the phone."  
  
"I'd be offended if I did not know you were just jeal- hey, wait!" He puts pen and paper aside and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you listening to my private phone calls?”  
  
"So you're admitting you sound like a lovestruck idiot?"  
  
Maes' fingers twitch. He has to pull himself together not to throw the notepad at Roy. Or the pen. He deserves it, for eavesdropping, for making fun of him. Tch. Who needs foes when one has friends like this asshole? As if the eternal and true love between him and Gracia is so funny and ridiculous that he needs to make fun of it all the time ... oh.  
  
... _oh_.  
  
There's his problem again. The one with Roy and him. Especially with Roy. Because Roy probably doesn't eavesdrop to make fun of him – at least not just because of that - but because he's probably jealous. Of him. Of his relationship. Of Gracia.  
  
More evidence of his "Roy Mustang is a stupid gay fuck" theory. It's as blatant as a neon sign. With the words "gay" and "in love with you, Hughes" frantically lighting up again and again in capital letters.  
  
So there they are, the two of them. Three, if one counts Gracia. Which Maes does, because she's just as involved in this as Roy and Maes himself are.  
  
This requires tact. Diplomacy. All the skills Maes is very sure he possesses in astoundingly large quantities.  
  
"What're you doing here, anyway?" he asks softly, giving Roy a little leeway, the ability to get closer to him, to the "you" and "we" and "hello, I like you."  
  
It takes a moment for Roy to answer. Then he shrugs without looking at him, but instead stubbornly glares at the ceiling. "It's boring, sometimes. With nobody to talk to."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's not like there's a whole bunch of other cadets, most of which would rip out an arm and a leg to have a chance to talk to the famously infamous Roy 'I'm so hot and my alchemy is even hotter' Mustang."  
  
Is he seeing things, or is Roy blushing a little?  
  
"But most of those are idiots."  
  
"Ah, but I thought I was one, too?" Maes says and clicks his tongue. _The bastard really can't decide, eh?_ he thinks with a smile on his face.  
  
Another shrug. "You only sound like one, most of the time."  
  
"I guess this is a compliment, however back-handed it might be." When Roy doesn't reply, Maes looks at him a little closer. Yes. _Yes_. This idiot – _his_ idiot, Maes thinks and then rolls his eyes at the thought because he is probably one himself - is definitely a little red in the face. On his cheeks, around his nose.  
  
"Mhh," Roy just hums quietly, still not looking at him. "Take that however you want. Don't think too much of it."  
  
"Of you searching my company?"  
  
Slowly, Roy rolls over on his side, elbow digging into the mattress, resting his chin on his palm. “We're friends, you idiot. Of course I like your company.” Then he rolls over on his back again and raises his shoulders helplessly, emitting an exaggerated sigh. "Wow, and here I thought you were smarter than the rest of these idiots."  
  
He laughs, but Maes sees the shadows flitting across his face, the fatigue and indefinite sense of melancholy that Maes imagines people feel when they're in love and can't say it out loud. His eyes fall on the pen in his hand, on the white, blank paper, and suddenly he knows all the words he wants to say, has to say. For his sake. For Roy's sake. Because they are both idiots and someone should change that.  
  
"You look tired," is what Maes says. 'You look sad,' is what he wants to say. “You don't need to look sad anymore.” That's what he hopes to say eventually.  
  
He will make sure of that.  
  
__  
  
It takes a while until Maes gets a reply.  
  
Of course it does, the mail is slow and Gracia has to read and answer his letter and then the mail has to be brought back to him, that takes time, but nonetheless, Maes feels like a cat on a hot tin roof for the next few days. Most of all, because he sees Roy getting more and more tired day by day, getting more and more stressed, spending more and more time pursuing activities that keep him away from Maes.  
  
Roy is probably currently living on the shooting range.  
  
And he's probably nailed a photo of Maes to the target.  
  
He wouldn't put that past him.  
  
He wouldn't even blame him.  
  
Because Maes knows what it's like to be lovesick. It's been the same with him and Gracia for a long time. With each day where he hasn't dared to speak to her, each time he's purposefully moved his butt to the library to officially study for the Academy entrance exams and unofficially catch a glimpse of her.  
  
Every second she's smiled at another man has broken his heart more and more. He can understand that Roy feels the same. Even if Maes doesn't smile at other men.  
  
He only smiles at Roy. Sometimes. Encouragingly and carefully, because he sometimes feels the same way around Roy as he has felt around Gracia, before he'd finally gathered all of his courage to just say hello.  
  
In this case, however, it's not a "hello" he just can't bring himself to say and write. In this case, it's: "Hello darling, may I date my best friend?"  
  
When he thinks about it, it sounds wrong. While writing the letter, it has sounded right.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Perhaps it's no wonder that the answer takes so long, perhaps Gracia has either fainted from laughter or is already on her way to strangle him one-handed.  
  
The next couple weeks are and remain terrible.  
  
And when the mail finally arrives and there's a letter for him, he hardly dares to open it.  
  
___  
  
He watches Roy's long fingers as they move around the barrel of the rifle, watches his shoulders tighten as he observes his target. As he squeezes one eye shut and peers through the crosshairs with the other.  
  
Roy has _not_ glued a photo of Maes on the target. Which is really nice of him. Still, Maes wouldn't have blamed him.  
  
He watches him as he fires once, twice. Observes the bullets that hit their target bulls-eye.  
  
On the one hand, Maes thinks it unnecessary for Roy to do that at all. Target practice. Guns. He doesn't need that. Roy has told him about what he can do with a snap of his fingers, once showed him how precisely he can light a candle that's a hundred feet away. Roy doesn't need a gun to be a deadly, effective soldier.  
  
On the other hand, there are always moments when a rifle or a pistol is preferable to a finger snap. Even if Maes can't think of any.  
  
Anyway, he watches him. The way he wipes the sweat off his brow because he's so focused. The way he lowers the weapon slowly. And the way he flinches when he spots Maes out of the corners of his eyes.  
  
"You've been avoiding me," he says, leaning against the doorframe, blocking Roy's exit before Roy can say anything or run away again. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives him a beaming smile. "If I hadn't known it any better, I'd have thought you'd left."  
  
Roy scoffs. "And let you steal all the food from people that are not me?"  
  
"Oh come on, that was one time!" Maes grunts softly and pouts a little. "No, really ... I'm glad you're still here. I'd have missed you." A tiny smile plays around Roy's lips. Maes hopes that it will eventually grow into a big smile.  
  
"Yeah, whatever." Well, that's decidedly not what Maes would have liked to hear, but at least he's talking to him and that is a start. "What do you want?"  
  
"Talk. To you. Like friends do sometimes."  
  
Roy sighs and Maes can see his shoulders rise and fall very slowly, his fingers still firmly clasped around the gun, almost holding it like a shield. His eyelids flutter a little as he raises his eyes and looks at Maes. "Fine. Then talk. But be quick about it, as you can see I'm busy."  
  
Maes shakes his head. "Not here. At my place," he says with a grin and a wiggle of his brows. "In private."  
  
For a moment, he almost expects Roy to hit him with the barrel of the rifle. Maybe he'd deserve it because he keeps provoking him like that, but Roy just rolls his eyes and turns around; Maes almost fears that he's just going to ignore him and pretend he doesn't exist, but Roy slowly puts the rifle back in its place and shoves his hands in his pockets, then trudges towards him grudgingly.  
  
And follows him. Sullen and tired, but he does, and that's a good thing.  
  
Maes smiles to himself.  
  
As the door to Maes' dorm closes behind them, Roy drops back onto the one empty bed that Maes already thinks of as Roy's bed. "So, what's wrong?" he asks and crosses his legs.  
  
"I've been thinking." Maes sits down in front of him and smiles. "When we're done, when we're no longer cadets and going home, then I want you."  
  
Roy winces, can't hide it. Just like he can't hide the flush that creeps onto his cheeks. He's easy to see through, and he's an idiot, even if Roy himself doesn't think he's one. "What the fuck, Hughes?"  
  
"As my best man."  
  
"... oh." Now he slumps back onto the bed. The disappointment is almost tangible in his features. He snorts softly and laughs, even though they both should know that it's a facade. Roy should have learned that Maes can see through people, he might not be able to set shit on fire with his mind, but he has his qualities, too, okay? "What a relief, I almost thought-"  
  
"And as my boyfriend," Maes interrupts him, and when Roy flinches again, it's his turn to laugh. Gently. Lovingly.  
  
Roy wants to open his mouth, and say something stupid again.  
  
"Don't worry," Maes says quickly and reaches into his breast pocket to get the letter out and hand it over. "I've got a permit."  
  
He waits for Roy to get over his initial shock, waits for him to actually read both sides of the letter; the one he's written to Gracia and the backside with her answer.  
  
He waits. Watches Roy's eyes widen and his lips part in surprise.  
  
And then he captures those lips in a kiss, just like he will for the rest of the night. And for the rest of their lives.  
  
___  
  
_Hey Gracia,_  
  
_I know this is a strange way to begin one of my letters, but, to be honest, I don't even actually know where to start this thing at all._  
  
_Even though I've tried. A lot. Often enough. And now I'm left with this one sheet of paper and this thing is too important for all of us to wait until I get my hands on more. So I have no other choice than to simply write everything down as I think of it. Sorry if it's a jumbled mess._  
  
_It's about Roy. You remember Roy? Grumpy, clever, annoying Roy. I'm sure I've told you about him often enough. Roy has a problem. And I have one with him._  
  
_But before I tell you about the problem with Roy, I should tell you that I love you. Because I do. You're the love of my life and I want to spend all of it together with you. But I also need ~~to tell you something~~ ~~to ask a favour of you~~_  
  
_This isn't easy for me. Just like I guess it won't be easy for you when you get to read this. I'm so sorry. I don't know if you'll laugh at me or hate me. Oh god, I really don't know and I'm afraid, but you need to know._  
  
_Roy is an idiot. But he is also my best friend and I want him to be happy. He isn't. Happy. At all. I don't think he ever has been, he's not the type to be._  
  
_Thing is ... I'm 99% sure he's in love with me. Or maybe he isn't and I'm going to make even more of an ass out of myself, but I hope I'm not and I know this is weird because I'm actually hoping that my best friend loves me so that I don't seem like ~~even more of~~ an idiot._  
  
_I love you. Please never doubt that I love you. But I've thought about Roy and the way he might feel about me and also about the way I guess I feel for him? I like him a lot. I think I want to be one to be able to make him happy, even if it's only for a short while. Just like I want to be the one allowed to make you happy forever, allowed to spend as much time with you as possible._  
  
_You know, if I'm honest, I wanna make Roy happy forever, too._  
  
_Gracia, light of my life, my heart and soul, I want to ask you for permission to kiss Roy Mustang. A lot. And maybe do more. But mostly kiss?_  
  
_I'm so sorry._  
  
_I love you._  
  
_Maes_  
  
___  
  
_Maes,_  
  
_of course I remember Roy. How couldn't I? You're gushing about him all the time._  
  
_I'm almost used to having to share you with him. And I have to admit: From the things you were writing about him, I sometimes wasn't too sure if you were his boyfriend or mine._  
  
_That kind of explains a lot, now._  
  
_We've known each other for a while, long enough for me to know that I can trust you even if I might not understand you all the time. But I don't think it's necessary that I do._  
  
_I have one condition, though. No, actually, there are two conditions. Firstly: I don't want you to leave me alone. Not now, not ever. I love you too much and I am very sure I know you well enough to assume you feel the same about me._  
_Secondly: I want to meet him. The next time you're in Central, you have to introduce him to me, formally, the way one should introduce a friend to a lady. I want flowers and chocolates and some time with him alone so that we can share stories about you being a lovable, horrible idiot. My idiot. Our idiot, I guess._  
  
_I love you and as long as you love me, you can kiss your boyfriend as often as you want to._  
  
_Yours,_  
_the best woman you will ever meet in your life._  
  
_No really, Maes, if you don't put a ring on my finger the next time you're here, you'll miss out._  
  
_You can even bring your boyfriend. Two rings are better than one, and diamonds are a girl's best friend. ;)_


End file.
